Waiting on an elevator - in a hotel out in California The smog clouds up the windows - but there is a plaque up on the wall That tells of the Agoras - people who were here long before us Before the covered wagons - before they lost it all
They were hunters, they were fisherman and they often fought each other But one small tribe was different, their leader was a peaceful man They were weavers, they were painters, trading pelts for pretty colours Protected by the warriors for the beauty in their hands Roll back the years, roll back the years, to the river of tears
The chief he had a daughter, she was young and she was beautiful He said "Go into the forest, get some berries for the dye But make you way back quickly, for the old bear's getting hungry I don't want you out there, when the sun falls from the sky"
Her basket filled with berries, she headed back toward the village When a mighty roar erupted, she ran and hid inside a hollow tree And shadows were getting longer, and the forest was getting colder And the chief began to panic, where could his daughter be? Lost in the years, lost in the years, on the river of tears
In the camp the fires were dying when the old chief started crying Soon all thr tribe were crying, and the ground grew wet beneath their feet And the tears they turned to water and the water became a river And the river flowed like an arrow to the foot of a hollow tree
And the girl looked out in wonder as she saw the water falling She knew it was her father and she swam to his canoe And all the tribe stopped crying and the river started subsiding Into the hill of the Agoras, and so the legend grew Roll back the years, roll back the years Roll back the years, roll back the years To the river of tears
(I wish all the world was healing) (I wish all the world was healing) (I wish all the world was healing) (I wish all the world was healing)Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
